


marital rites

by basketofnovas (slashmarks)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Civil Unions, F/F, Marriage of Convenience, Mildly Dubious Consent, Not Epilogue Compliant, Past Infidelity, Post-Canon, Something Made Them Do It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27464434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmarks/pseuds/basketofnovas
Summary: A few old classmates ask Pansy Parkinson for assistance retrieving a cursed object involved in an Auror case from her uncle's library. Hermione is pretending they didn't have that affair, up until somebody has to marry Pansy to allow it.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 71
Collections: Femslash Exchange 2020





	marital rites

**Author's Note:**

  * For [outlier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outlier/gifts).



> I hope my recipient enjoys this fic! I tried to incorporate a few of your prompts.

"Look," Pansy said, sweeping her eyes up and down the group and wondering why she had let Draco drag her here to talk to Auror Potter, Auror Weasley, and the woman who'd figured out she wanted a divorce by sleeping with Pansy in secret in 2002. "It's not that I'm not happy to sit here and let you lot buy me drinks, but you know I'm not speaking to my dad, right? I haven't been since right after the war. I can't tell you anything new about him, or anyone else in the family."

Auror Potter should definitely know that, which gave her a horrid feeling this might actually be about _her_.

"Yeah, we know," Potter said, and ran a hand over his ridiculous hair. "We're not looking for testimony against anyone, Parkinson, I swear."

"Like that means anything from an Auror."

Granger, who appeared to be staring somewhere six inches to the left of Pansy's head, scoffed. Pansy raised an eyebrow at her. Granger had too good a poker face to flush, but her lips tightened and she shifted uncomfortably.

"Fortunately," Potter said, breaking into their exchange of glares, "You don't have to take my word for it, because I'm going to explain right now. We received another tip related to Death Eater attacks on the public. The investigation was successful, and we've uncovered the ring leaders, but we couldn't recover all of the materials pertaining to their most recent curse. We have reason to believe that the focus is hidden on Parkinson property." He took a scroll out of his bag and twisted his wand with his other hand, neatly clearing the pub glasses into a small, hovering row above the table so that he could spread out the diagram.

It was absolutely unfair, Pansy thought, that the idiot had gone and developed impressive magical power _after_ defeating Voldemort. At least he was using it to clear pub tables.

She looked at the diagram because she didn't see a great alternative, and breathed out heavily. She had hoped she could honestly tell them she had no idea what they were talking about, but...

"Yes, I know it," she said. "It's - so, the family story is that my Great Great Great Great Great - that's five greats - Grandmother didn't want to marry Great-five-times-Grandad Parkinson, but this was one of the old pureblood families ages ago so they made her do it anyway. Supposedly the jewels," she pointed at the picture, "Were her wedding jewels, and every night she cried over them. Which would have been the end of it except she was a Malfoy--"

"This story is baseless slander," said Draco, who had heard it before.

"--So her tears were made of pure venom and spite, and eventually they built up a curse in the necklace, and she put it on and died. And then her husband came and tried to take it off her to sell it, and the curse got him too." She realized everyone but Draco was staring at her. "It's not _true_ ," she added hastily. "I mean, I don't know, maybe Great-Grandmummy Malfoy was forced to marry him but they died thirteen years apart. I guess they were both young for it, but people died young all the time back then."

"Thirteen is a magically significant number," said Potter, which was honestly more than Pansy would have guessed he knew about numerology.

"How did they die?" Hermione asked.

Pansy shrugged. "I don't know, I'd have to check the family tree, and like I said, I'm not speaking to anyone, remember? The only reason I know when they died is because my big sister used to tell me this story to scare me and when I was about ten I went and checked so I could tell her she was lying."

"What'd she say?" Weasley asked.

Pansy blinked at him, surprised by his participation in the conversation. "She said it was because Great-Grandmummy killed herself to charge the curse and it took a while to complete. What older siblings always say."

"Did your brothers tell you stories about human sacrifice when you were little?" Potter asked Weasley, looking genuinely disconcerted.

"Nah." Weasley scratched his very red hair. "I mean, sometimes they'd tell me about the ancient British war chiefs, who would use the youngest son as a sacrifice in times of need to defend the village, but that was just so they could tell me if there was another war I'd be first to go since I was youngest. Mostly it was just spiders and trolls and shite."

Potter and Granger exchanged a look over everyone else's heads. Pansy had no idea what it was about.

"So," Potter said, clearing his throat. "You've seen the necklace. Are you willing to tell us where it's kept?"

"Sure." Pansy shrugged. "It's in my great-granduncle's library, with the rest of the cursed magical stuff and the heirlooms he doesn't trust the descendants not to pawn them to feed their children. I've been in there about twice in my life, but I doubt they've moved it unless they had to to do this curse. It should be in a glass case between the dragonology books and the healing ones. Is that all, then?"

Of course it wasn't all.

They actually managed to get a warrant, and seal off that wing of the house from the family, but that couldn't get them _inside_. You needed to be an adult Parkinson to do that. And because, like idiots, they'd gone and told the family they had to let the Aurors in to search the library nobody would open the door for them, not even by trickery.

"--So," Potter said, sounding extremely tired about five days later, "We were hoping you'd come in and do it."

At least this time she had made the MLE expensive budget spring for dinner. Pansy nibbled her roll deliberately and said, "I would love to, Potter. But I can't," she said as he looked up, hopefully. "You have to be an official adult to get into the library and I'm not. Not married, and I ran off before they put my name in the rolls as a spinster."

"Right," Potter said, "Of course." He paused. "But if you got married it would work?"

"Do you harbor a deep fantasy of Ginny Weasley murdering you?" Pansy asked. "Just curious."

He seemed to realize how that had sounded and flushed. "I didn't mean _me_ ," he said. "We just need to find someone--"

"More and more romantic," Pansy said, nibbling some more of the roll.

"You can get divorced right after," Potter said.

"I see why Mrs. Potter married you."

"Look," Granger said, clipped in that I'm-about-to-punch-someone way she had had at school, "I realize it means nothing to you, but the curse they used that necklace for was laid on the children's wing at St. Mungo's. They were evacuated, but the Curse-Breakers have been at it for months and haven't managed to get it off, which means _first_ off that they can't use anything stocked in that wing and second off that St. Mungo's employees keep getting hurt walking through the area, which happens to be in the middle of the entire hospital. Yesterday someone almost died. So this curse does need to come off. Soon."

"Okay, okay." Pansy rubbed her face. "Theoretically, yes, I think I could get married and as long as my spouse took my name instead of me taking theirs, I'd automatically be an adult - we'd have to do the magic spellwork, but that's okay, we could just use one of the sets that dissolves on divorce."

"And you'll do it," Potter said.

"I expect you to compensate me for this," Pansy said.

"Naturally," Granger said, not blinking.

"One more condition," Pansy said.

"What is it," Potter said, face suggesting any number of terrible things he was imagining.

"You get the Curse-Breakers to come up with some plausible story about how you broke the protections on the library that doesn't involve me," Pansy said. "Running away is one thing, if they knew I'd helped the Ministry break into the family library they'd kill me."

"That's fine." Potter relaxed. Obviously he had expected much greater demands. Pansy felt she had bargained badly. "So who are we going to get to marry you?" he asked, addressing the table at large. 

Pansy bristled slightly by reflex, but it was true she had no ideas. Draco was technically single, but the prospect of telling Narcissa Malfoy they were getting married for a couple of weeks just to help out the Aurors did not bear consideration. There would be no use trying to keep it a secret from her, she would find out somehow.

"I'll do it," said Granger, slightly stiff.

Ah, Pansy did not say, will you, now?

"Hang on," she said instead. "Not that I object, but I don't think the Ministry will officiate."

"That's fine," Granger said, looking at the bread basket with great interest. "Muggles allow same sex couples to have civil unions. There's no reason that wouldn't work for marriage spells, is there?"

"I don't... think so," said Pansy, blinking. "I've never heard of anyone doing it but that's just because the only people I know who've had civil unions were muggleborns or actual muggles, so--"

" _You_ know _muggles?_ " Weasley said.

"I grew up, Weasley," Pansy said. Then to Granger she added, "I got muggle ID when I got my first flat out of school, so that shouldn't be a problem." Granger already knew that, but she didn't want Weasley and Potter realizing it. "How does this work?"

It turned out they had to go to the registry and sign a form, then wait the designated number of days before they could sign a second form finalizing the deal.

"Who says muggles don't have culture?" Pansy muttered, sotto voce. 

Granger stepped on her foot. Pansy winced. 

"You two realize you're supposed to look like people who _want_ to get married," Potter said, sounding resigned. "Not like you're in a race to kill each other for the insurance money."

"I don't know what you mean. We're a happy, happy couple." Pansy took Granger's arm and thought about bending her over backwards, the way she used to, but then she caught the look in her eye and reconsidered. It was a pity, though. The sunlight gleamed off of her hair which was under _much_ better control than it had been in school. They had rarely met in the daylight, before.

"Get this over with before I kill her right here, please," Granger said. "You don't want to arrest me for it, Harry, you'd have to do your own paperwork."

They did get the paperwork over with, and went out for drinks again afterward. Mostly it was to review the marriage spellwork Pansy thought should satisfy the family magic without being too onerous, but once they had picked over the five page documentation thoroughly she cleared her throat and asked, "How's the curse doing at St. Mungo's, then? They make any progress lifting it?"

"A wall collapsed on a patient being hovered between departments and two people were seriously injured," Potter said flatly.

"Right. Sorry, then," Pansy said, and took another swallow of beer. "So... We might be able to just perform this now, I mean, we've signed the paperwork. I think we'll need to go through with the marriage ceremony, or it might retroactively invalidate the spells and curse us then for false entry, but..."

"Harry can officiate," Granger said with an expression of immense relief.

"What?" Potter said, looking mildly alarmed. "I mean, uh, sure - here?"

"Go ask if they'll let you use the back room," Weasley said, rolling his eyes. "Everyone loves you. Tell them it's official Auror business and you need privacy, it's not even a lie."

This was surprisingly pragmatic for a Weasley in Pansy's opinion, but then, maybe Draco in school and Hermione while longing for divorce weren't the most accurate sources.

The bartender flushed and mumbled while Potter introduced himself. Pansy rolled her eyes. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that Potter had taken months to learn how to do a simple Summoning Charm fourth year and had needed Granger's help to pass Potions, but then he might recognize her from her brief moment of infamy in the _Prophet_ over suggesting they turn Potter over to Voldemort in seventh year, so she did not.

They made their way according to directions to a backroom stacked with folding chairs and crates, mostly full of dusty bottles. The light came in a dustier window. When Granger lit the candles with a flick of her wand, spiders scuttled out of sight.

"So how's it stack up to our wedding, 'Mione?" said Weasley brightly.

Granger inspected the backroom meticulously. "Well," she said at last, "It hasn't got your Auntie Muriel in it, so I have to say it's an improvement."

Pansy looked at a dirty mirror smudged with the hand prints of a small child who had presumably been exploring and thought about her big sister's wedding to a Nott cousin. The bride and groom had arrived at the church on horseback. There had been a procession of half the village.

"It's fantastic," Pansy said, and found to her surprise she meant it.

She and Granger gripped hands; Granger gave Pansy her left, and she had a moment of surprise that she no longer wore the wedding ring. She hadn't taken it off during sex before. Potter studied the papers Granger had handed him and then took his wand out, placing the tip to the top of their clasped hands. "Er," he said. "Do you, Hermione Granger, consent to take Pansy Parkinson as your lawful partner under the laws of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland?"

"Yes," Granger said, sounding irate.

Potter's eyes slid to Pansy. She tried not to stare at the scar meeting them. "Do you, Pansy Parkinson, consent to take Hermione Granger as your lawful partner under - the same?" he said, stuttering slightly.

"I do," Pansy said.

"So I witness," Potter said, Weasley echoing a moment behind. "So I bind," Potter said, and a thin ribbon of light shot out his wand, looping around their joined hands. It was warm, but not hot, and felt oddly wet. "So be it."

The light sank into their hands. Pansy felt oddly empty in its absence, but shook it off. That was just the marriage spellwork.

"So," Weasley said, "Can we go over to the library, or...?"

"We have to spend the night together first," Granger said curtly. "Parkinson, do you want to go to a hotel, or...?"

"You can come to my flat if you want," Pansy said, shrugging. "I'll Apparate us. See you tomorrow, Potter, Weasley?" she said, and started out of the backroom. 

She thought Granger would argue on the way out, but she only trailed Pansy silently to the back alley and proffered her hand again for the Apparition. Pansy squeezed her fingers tight and spun, taking them into the half-darkness of her entryway.

Granger stumbled slightly on the dismount, then jumped when Pansy went for the light switch. "You have _electricity_ ," she said accusatively.

She'd never been here before, even thought it was the same flat.

"I told you I got a muggle place," Pansy pointed out. "--Cup of tea before we get started?"

Granger made a strained noise, then laughed. "Get started?"

"Have a shag?" Pansy suggested instead, taking her shoes off and dropping her bag before she made her way into the tiny kitchen. "Get it on? Fuck on the sofa? --You look a lot better since the divorce," she added, fishing in the cupboards for the tea things and wishing she'd known she was going to get married this morning, so she could've done the washing up in advance.

"Thanks," Granger said, cautiously. There was a fraught silence before she said, "Look, I'm sorry I - it was unfair of me, breaking things off that way, I wouldn't have wanted to be treated like that."

Pansy breathed out. "You were cheating on your husband with me," she said. "I sort of expected you might stop at some point."

"Yes, but I didn't stop because I felt guilty. I stopped because I'd realized I liked you - better than him - and it terrified me," Granger said, and damn it, Pansy was going to have to use her first name again, wasn't she?

"He doesn't know why you left him, does he," Pansy said. "--You still take milk, no sugar?"

"Yes," Hermione said distractedly. "I mean, yes to the tea. No, he doesn't know."

"What did you tell him?" Pansy said.

"I didn't lie. I said we'd been too young to get married - which we were - and I didn't want the same things he did - which I don't - and maybe we should try some time apart." Hermione shrugged. "He was the one who brought up finalizing the divorce, actually. He's seeing one of Ginny's team mates now, he started while we were broken up."

"So it was... pretty painless, then," Pansy said, cautiously, and brought the tea to the table.

"I suppose." Hermione sighed and wrapped her fingers around the tea cup, gracefully, pressing them to it for warmth. Pansy smiled involuntarily. She remembered that gesture. "It seems like it should have been more - I don't know - something. We'd spent so many years dancing around each other and then it was just over." She looked up. "I started out by apologizing for being self-centered and I'm just doing it again, aren't I? What about you?"

Pansy shrugged. "I don't get out much. I got disinvited from the pureblood parties for running away and the cool parties for suggesting we turn Potter over to Voldemort. So this marriage..."

"Thank you for agreeing to help."

"Fifteen minutes of paperwork and a night with a witch who's good in bed, what a trial, what a burden," Pansy said, and Hermione giggled, just the way she used to. "--C'mere, you're not drinking that tea," she said, and swallowed when it came out hoarse.

Hermione set the tea down, slowly, and leaned over to kiss her. She still tasted the same. She must use the same brand of chapstick.

"Come on," Pansy said, and led her into the dark bedroom by the hand.

It was awkward. Mostly they had gone to hotels during the affair, aside from the time they had snogged furiously in the ladies' lounge at a charity gala they had both been at for work, until someone nearly walked in on them. Hotels were impersonal but they had benefits, like the housekeeping wasn't your responsibility and the beds were not the single, metal framed affair with the squeaky leg you'd been meaning to look up the charm to fix for six months, and a year's worth of dust bunnies under the bed.

"You grew up with house elves, I assume," Hermione said, looking at the dust spilling from under the bed.

Pansy choked. "--Not all purebloods are rich, Granger," she said. 

"Your great grand-uncle--"

"Has twelve or fourteen living direct descendants before any of the family money branches out to the first cousins," Pansy said. "I didn't grow up with house elves, I grew up in a house where if my grandmother had seen a dust bunny she would have _incinerated_ it. And about ten other people. The Weasleys aren't that unusual." She flushed slightly at the end of this rant.

Hermione looked at her, mouth slightly ajar; then she said, "This flat suddenly sounds so much more appealing."

"It's peaceful," Pansy said. "--I mean, once I figured out how to put up Silencing Charms on the walls, the downstairs neighbors have a rock band. Are the dust bunnies the point where you storm out?"

"I think I can live with a few dust bunnies," Hermione said, smiling slightly; but when Pansy reached to take her shirt off she put a hand over her wrist and stopped her. "You did all the work before. Let me," she said, and pushed Pansy gently down onto her back on the bed.

Pansy buried a hand in Hermione's hair and closed her eyes.

Afterward they lay in the sheets. Pansy thought that they could probably stand to be washed, along with the dust bunnies and the dusty window. There hadn't been much reason to care; living the bachelor life, she said gloatingly to Draco when he came over and complained.

"You need to figure out what to tell your friends," she said, slowly, quietly.

"I know," Hermione said, equally quiet, and kissed the inside of Pansy's knee. "I'll think of something. After the curse is broken."

"After," Pansy agreed, and stroked Hermione's hair.


End file.
